


Opportunity

by imsfire



Series: Fragments from the multiverse [8]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Cassian looking for ways to do good and help people, Feels, Gen, Set between ESB and ROTJ, Spy Stuff, anxious worried OC, even a jolly Hutt is pretty grotesque, implied Force-sensitive Leia, implied background Cassian/Jyn, implied future help for Rey, partly OC pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 13:52:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17920046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imsfire/pseuds/imsfire
Summary: A nervous Rodian has to visit the court of a minor Hutt lord to receive a gift; a stranger helps him out and gets an unexpected gift of his own in return.  A gift which he is able to put to good use...





	Opportunity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pontmercyingtilthecowscomehome](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pontmercyingtilthecowscomehome/gifts).



> For Pontmercyingtillthecowscomehome - happy belated birthday!  
> This story was inspired by one of the "Cassian Andor Promptathon" prompts from a short while back, but it grew like Topsy and wasn't finished on time. It's a bit broken-backed structurally, and for part of the section from the OC's point of view, Cassian isn't even present. But the overall theme of his kindness and instinctive tendency to help others when he can is what holds it together.

It was the best chance they were ever likely to get.  Uncle Pron’s lucky-fish-shaped cakes had been bought and enjoyed by the Mayor’s daughter, who had given some to the Mayor, who had given some to the Eminent Golkuzka Ka Rekka himself.  And then the Eminent One had sent a box of them as a small and insignificant gift to none other than Yolba the Hutt.  Yolba the Hutt, who pretty much owned half the system, whose smallest gurgled word could have your entire estate confiscated, your store burned down and your family enslaved; or set you up for life, with a pension, a new home, unimaginable riches and opportunities.

And back down through that network of connections the good news had come.  Summoned to appear before the mighty Yolba.  The Hutt who loved cake.

Tondo closed the door and looked at his family.  The twins were almost yellow with excitement.  Their mother stood behind them rubbing their backs comfortingly, though she too was pale.  Uncle Pron sat at the polished stone counter wringing his hands, his finger-suckers latching-on and popping off again unconsciously. 

His own hands were sweaty, suction cups slick with anxiety.  Tondo drew a deep breath.  Cake; they’d gambled everything on cake.  And it had paid off.

Well, almost.  Yolba the Magnificent had deigned to amuse himself with the Eminent One’s little gift, and had promised his most generous patronage in return.  Not a pension or a house, nor a position as Pastry Chef to the Court, but still far more than a humble family of bakers could normally have hoped for.  They just had to have the courage to take the offer; and to choose which of them it would be, to go to Yolba’s Palace.

He explained quickly, ashamed of how his voice started fluting with excitement.  “The gift was a success, the Eminent One has gained favour with Yolba the Hutt and we too are being favoured.  Yolba has offered that one of us may enter his great treasury and help themselves to as much riches as they can carry!  We just have to decide who it will be.”

“No catch?” Sota asked.

“No catch.  The Eminent One assures me.  Or – well, I suppose you could say the catch is that whoever it is will be claiming their reward in front of the whole court.  Yolba wants his generosity to be known and celebrated.”

“Humiliating,” Sota said dryly. 

“Yes, I suppose it is, but surely that’s a small price to pay.” Tondo cupped his hands together, fingers spread wide. “I can carry a good deal, look - and Uncle Pron’s hands are even bigger than mine.  If you’re willing to go, Uncle?”

“I’d rather not…” Uncle Pron didn’t sound enthusiastic, but then anything that took him out of his usual anonymity made him unhappy.  He’d almost refused to sell cakes to the Mayor, just in case it drew attention like this.

But it was an opportunity they couldn’t afford to let pass. 

“If you’re sure you won’t go, Uncle, then I suppose I’ll have to,” he said.  Already wondering ruefully just how much the fare was going to be, all the way to Nal Hutta.

“Hah.  It’s dangerous if you go and dangerous if you don’t!” Sota cut to the heart of the problem as usual. “Why couldn’t he just send a bag of credits if he wanted to be generous?  The Hutts have egos even bigger than their bellies.”

“Nonetheless, one of us must go to Yolba’s Palace if we’re not to waste this opportunity.  I don’t suppose he’d take kindly to having his generosity ignored, either.”

From behind Tondo came the sound of a soft chuckle.  He turned in a panic; if anyone had overheard Sota insulting their benefactor then, oh stars, that could mean _real_ trouble.

“Who’s there?  Can I help you?” he quavered.

A tall human stepped forward into the bakery store from the doorway.  Young, probably male judging from the facial hair; dark modest clothing, dark hair and dark eyes.

He gestured towards the serving baskets on the end of the counter. “I was looking to buy a loaf of seed-bread.  But I couldn’t help overhearing your last few words.  It sounds as though perhaps we can help one another?”

“Indeed, indeed, sir, I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” Tondo swallowed.  It sounded just as lame as he felt. 

The human’s face was hard and smart and tired; a face even more unreadable than usual, with lips habituated to silence.  Not someone likely to be impressed with a room of nervous Rodians stuttering like infants.

But they’d done nothing wrong.  He sucked in a deep breath and tipped his head back to stare the human man in the eye, and explained the situation as casually as he could.  The cakes, the mayor, the gift, the promise from Yolba the Hutt. “And so you see, my family and I were discussing how I’m to get to Nal Hutta to accept this generous offer before Yolba forgets about it, or worse.  It’s an irregular situation, you must admit.” He fluted out an uncomfortable laugh. “We’re just ordinary people, running our business and selling our goods, and we’ve never had to contemplate travelling long distances, not even planetside here on Lothal.  That’s the only reason we’re concerned.” 

“Of course, I understand,” said the stranger. “It all sounds complicated and expensive and I’m not surprised you’re feeling a little – thrown – by having someone so influential pay attention to you.” He held out both hands in a wide gesture that Tondo decided after a moment must indicate bonhomie.  Or openness, maybe - nothing to hide?  Something like that.  His smile too was full of signals, carefully selected to say _goodwill_ and _trust me_.  Oh, human faces were so hard! “It seems to me that perhaps we can help one another.  I need to visit Nal Hutta for a day or two, I have a ship and I could provide you with transportation free of charge.  Let’s just say, it could be useful to me to have a passenger, Master Baker.”

He wasn’t a Master Baker, not even Uncle Pron had earned that title. “Tondo, the name’s Tondo.  Tondo Dilmaku.” He hid a nervous shudder as best he could; the man’s words made it evident he was a smuggler.  A smuggler needing a legitimate reason to visit the Hutt homeworld, no doubt to conduct heavens only knew what illegitimate business while he was there.  

Well, on Nal Hutta he would going to have to turn his eyes and hearing away from plenty of illegal doings anyway.  At least this dark-eyed person was upfront about it.  Tondo blotted the cooling sweat from his hand hastily and offered it, human-style. “And you are?”

“You can call me Willix.”

**

It was a three day flight and he spent most of it fidgeting and trying not to get underfoot, and wishing with increasingly misery that he’d never set off.  That the family had never sold a thing to the Mayor.  That Uncle Pron had never developed his lucky-fish-shaped cakes in the first place.

Willix didn’t seem to have any cargo, which made it all even more worrying, because stars only knew what he was smuggling if it wasn’t goods of some kind.  His ship was a battered old U-wing transport with room for a co-pilot, but when Tondo ventured onto the flight deck and stood staring at the empty second seat the man told him briskly “My partner wasn’t able to join me on this trip, but I assure you I’m competent to fly the ship even without him.” He gave a sharp snort of something like laughter and added “He’d say otherwise, of course, but he’s always trying to plague me with statistics.”

 At least that sounded as if the mystery partner wasn’t actually dead, just - unavoidably detained in some way.  Tondo nodded and retreated, fluting apologies. 

Ooo, ooo, it was all so awkward.  Constantly and naggingly awkward.  He’d brought his own food, but Willix had bought extra ration packs for him.  He’d expected to be given a hammock, wasn’t that what ships’ crew slept in? – but Willix had insisted in giving him the only cabin.  He’d brought chocolate cookies, most humans liked chocolate after all and it seemed the least he could do in return for free transportation, even if he was being used as the smuggler’s cover.  Willix stared at the biscuits as if he’d never seen anything like them in his life.

Tondo dipped his head in embarrassment and reached to take the box back.  Just as Willix reached for them, equally cautiously.  With tightly-controlled hands he took a cookie and broke it in half, and bit off a piece.  He ate every crumb, very slowly, without a word, and sat looking at the rest.

“Do have another,” Tondo said, daring to hope the silence was a good sign.  Surely if he hadn’t liked it, he wouldn’t have licked the last residue off his fingers like that?

“Thank you.” Willix sounded strange.  All his confidence gone suddenly, his voice momentarily almost boyish. “We – we don’t get things like this on - where I live.  I’m not used to having treats.”

He ate a second cookie, and gave Tondo a nod, and a new smile, one that wasn’t carefully stretched into place, but was brief and flickering and went all the way to his eyes.

Later, he offered Tondo a ration pack.  Protein strips, and a little pot of algal carb-gel that was doubtless packed with vitamins and goodness, but had absolutely no flavour at all, and the texture of decomposing rubber.  He ate it anyway and said thank you politely.

Willix didn’t seem to notice.  He was eating a third cookie. 

Willix was sleeping on the floor of the cargo hold, wrapped in a blanket and an ancient blue parka.  It was embarrassing; but when Tondo tried to protest the pilot told him “It’s important that it looks like you’re a paying passenger.  For my cover.” And he didn’t want to probe any further into that so he nodded in awkward acceptance and said “Oh yes, yes, sir.” But though it might be both practical and kind, it made the journey even more uncomfortable just the same.

He was increasingly nervous about the whole trip.  He was going to Nal Hutta, for the love of life!  Really, that had to be what was causing his miserable tension, not these tiny minor issues with Willix.  Who had given him free transportation and who deserved nothing but gratitude.  He was going to face the mighty Yolba the Hutt.  He was going to have to do his best to grab hold of as much precious metal as he could; or credit chips or gemstones or whatever the treasure turned out to be.  Heavens, he didn’t even know what sort of things he was likely to find.  How heavy would they be, how easy to grip?  How would he know what to take?

The stress of worrying was working its way into every waking moment, chafing at his mind like a tight strap.  It caught at his breathing, made his fingers clumsy, his eyes blink fast.  Willix moved around him carefully, offered him another ration pack, made him tea.  Finally said with a strange formal manner “Forgive me, Master Tondo, I can see I’ve done something wrong and I apologise for not understanding what it is.  I meant no rudeness.”

Rudeness?  “Ohh no, no sir, no no no, it’s I who have been rude, I’m sure it must be.  I thought to keep out of your way, not put you out, I thought to give a pleasure with the cookies, but I fear they’re too sweet for you, I’m just a mess, so so nervous, so nervous, oh dear…”

He wound down and sat blinking at the human.  Willix’ impassive face just made him more nervous.  But it was his nerves; not the poor human’s fault. 

And Willix was unfreezing slowly, anyhow.  His mouth shaped small silences, and became sad, and concerned. “I’ve been trying to keep out of your way, I didn’t realise you were trying to keep out of mine.  We are at crossed purposes, it seems.”

“I didn’t want to seem to be spying on you!  Your business dealings are your affair and none of mine after all.  I’m just so nervous, oh dear so nervous.  About meeting a Hutt.” Ugh, he was chattering like an infant. “Soo nervous,” his mouth said again.

Willix bit his lip.  Smiled that real, shy smile again. “Well,” he said “so am I.”

“Oh.  Oh!  And the cookies, I’m so sorry about the cookies, I meant them to be a thank you but you’ve hardly touched them, normally humans eat a whole box in one sitting I’m told.  Oh dear.  I’ve been a very bad passenger.”

“The cookies are delicious,” Willix said. “Truly.  I just – as I said.  I’m not used to having treats for myself.  Master Tondo, you’ve been a perfect passenger, the most courteous and unobtrusive.  I’m sorry your trip is making you so unhappy.”

“Just nervous, just nervous, that’s all.  Oh, how I wish Uncle Pron had agreed to come instead of me!  His hands are so much bigger than mine.  He could have carried far more!”

Willix sat thinking for a moment, his face relaxing back into inscrutability. “It’s Yolba you’ll be visiting, specifically Yolba, you say?  He’s known for his love of good living.  For a Hutt, he even has a sense of humour.” Suddenly creases appeared, above his eyes and around his mouth, giving him an almost boyish look of pleasure. “I have an idea,” he said.

**

Yolba the Hutt was even more alarming than Tondo’s worst imaginings.  Blueish-brown body paint and elaborate jewellery decorated his corpulent belly and bulbous skull.  Mean, grabby little hands toyed with an emerald-tined cake fork, spearing sugared puffs from a vast tray and popping them into his mouth.  His tail lashed with almost masturbatory enthusiasm.  He drooled.  He even smelled bad.

His entourage hovered and fawned and waited on him, offering napkins and fingerbowls and drinks, and adoring words, and smiles that never ever reached their eyes.

Tondo bowed and bowed and bowed.

He’d prepared his words carefully.  Sota and the girls and Uncle Pron were all depending on him.  He bowed again, kept his eyes down bashfully, and answered the Pantoran major-domo’s questions. “Munificent Yolba, I’m your humblest servant, Tondo Dilmaku, the baker.  From Lothal, my Lord.  It pleased your lordship graciously to summon me after some of my family’s handiwork gave you pleasure.”

He held up a new box of lucky-fish cakes and bowed once again.

Yolba swallowed another sweet pastry puff and belched, and gurgled out a stream of Huttese.

The major-domo said “Lord Yolba acknowledges you.  He remembers the delicious fish-shaped bites of delightfulness and is pleased to bestow a gift upon you in person as a sign of his favour.”

Yolba rumbled and burped and uttered more words.  His wet smile reached almost the whole breadth of his head.

“Mighty Yolba asks why your clothes are so ill-fitting?” The Pantoran spoke in a voice so stately that every word sounded like a put-down.  His own clothing was perfectly tailored, in close-fitted velvet trimmed with innumerable heavy braids of platinum silk. “That coat was not made for a Rodian figure and nor were your boots.  You must be very uncomfortable in such loose clothing.  Mighty Yolba says this.”

“My Lord,” this was the critical moment, he steadied his voice, his hands, kept his gaze down – “I am humbled that you concern yourself to notice my unhappy clothing situation.  It was my misfortune to slip and fall while disembarking from the ship that brought me.  My jacket and shoes were badly soiled.  Had the pilot not been able to lend me these things I might have been disgraced, appearing before your magnificence in shirtsleeves, and barefoot.”

Rolling Hutt laughter, fat and indulgent.

“You are a well-spoken little fellow.  Yolba the Munificent is pleased.  He is giving the order for the doors of the Grand Treasury to be opened.  You will be permitted five minutes within, to choose and gather up whatever items you can carry.  Then you will show yourself, so that all may witness the Mighty One’s generosity.”

Tondo bowed and bowed, trying to calm his fluting breath .  _This will work, this will work, Willix says it will, it’s just the thing to please a Hutt sense of humour.  He’s been here before, he’s worked with them, knows how they think, what pleases them.  I can trust him._

_I rather have to, now, after all._

A pair of Twi’leks clad in revealing body armour and jewelled stockings escorted him through the crowded open court to where a pair of golden doors had been ceremoniously opened.  There was a smattering of amused applause as he bowed once more before crossing the threshold; and the doors were pulled shut behind him.

_Quick, quick, unlace the huge human boots, open the front of the oversized blue coat._

Tondo stared round the huge chamber as he fumbled with unfamiliar fastenings.  There were broad shelves along the back of the treasury, stacked with beautiful and bizarre objets d’art and – other things.  One whole shelf appeared to be entirely filled with dusty bottles of emerald wine; another, with life-sized figurines of Hutt infants in solid gold.  Tacky, or creepy? – he preferred not to look closer.  His patron’s tastes were none of his affair, however weird or queasy or cutesy.

He’d got the boots undone and pulled wide open, and the coat also open except for a tight belt at the waist.

_Look for something small, portable, quick, quick…_

A bronze chest held a rainbow of gemstones.  Bright-cut diamonds, emerald cabochons, the subtle glow of Naboo moonstones, desert pearls, amethyst and ametrine and Thystine sapphire, and a dozen more he’d never seen before.  He filled his boots to the top with fistfuls of stones.

Shuffled awkwardly to the next chest and hauled that open.  Even better; credit chips in a dozen currencies, and even a few bags of old-style coin, clinking as he lifted them.  Some of each might be wise.  Betting on both ponies.  Tondo shovelled handfuls of chips and bags of money into his coat, gradually clipping up the fastenings as he filled the empty spaces.  He stuffed under his arms and against his belly.   The weight was becoming unpleasant but he carried on till he was bulging with money.  He lurched a few more metres to a last case.  Jewellery.  Very well then, jewellery it would be.  The last few seconds ticked by as he hung necklace after necklace on himself, and finally gathered a last double-handful of credit chips and gemstones.

It would have to be enough, he was panting with the effort of moving now.  He turned clumsily as the doors opened once more. 

“Come forth, servant of Yolba, and show how great is your master’s gift!”

It was hard to walk, with his feet weighted and his coat stuffed, and strings of gleaming jewels and gold piled round his aching neck.  In the slow seconds it took to make his way forward, back to the doorway and the eyes of the court, every possible fearful outcome bobbed into view in his mind, like floating bodies, and had to be pushed away.  Between the weight he was lugging and the flotsam of fear, somehow he kept moving, gulping a breath and another, taking a shuffling step.  Out of the treasure chamber.  _It’s going to be fine, it’s going to be fine…_

Too late to go back now.

The lights in the hall of audience weren’t particularly brilliant.  But to be the sole focus of several hundred sets of eyes felt like being in the full glare of a sun approaching nova.  There was a breathless silence.  The chink of his gait and his effortful panting were horribly loud.

Yolba laughed.  Louder and more happily even than before.  The deep-bellied hilarity of a joke appreciated to the full.

Gradually, gratefully, the rest of the audience began to laugh also, with relief.  The volume grew until Tondo was giddy with it.  Even the pompous Pantoran was chuckling, eyes fixed on his delighted master.  Yolba was slapping his quivering blubbery sides with glee, vast mouth agape.  It was only when he threw up one hand for hush that the echoing laughter died down.

Tondo swallowed, and bowed.  Bowed down, down, down; and a carbuncle larger than an eyeball slipped out of the neck of the borrowed jacket.  It rolled.  He was so weighed down it was an effort to straighten again bet he did; and bowed yet again.  One hand to the collar this time, to prevent any more losses.  Yolba chortled indulgently as he spoke.

“Great Yolba says he had not expected such a fine ruse from you, little baker.  Admirable, admirable, to put a trick such as this over on a Hutt lord!  Yolba commends you.  Persons of such cunning and quick wits are always welcome here, the Hutt cartel appreciates the clever and the capable wherever they may be.  Perhaps you will consider entering his employ, here in the palace.  It is Mighty Yolba who says this.”

Well, at least he wasn’t angry. “I am deeply grateful, most deeply grateful and honoured to receive Lord Yolba’s favour.  But I’m just a humble baker and my heart wishes only to return to my family.”

“You have a mate?  Offspring?”

“Yes, my Lord, a partner and twin daughters.”

“Mighty Yolba understands the power of family bonds…  Offspring are more precious than any jewel.” The rolling, gurgling Huttese speech had hesitated for a moment, Yolba’s iridescent eyes going moist with sentiment. “You may depart from the Noble One’s presence, and return to your spouse and younglings.”

Tondo steeled his spine for one last deep bow, and retreated.  His coat and boots clinked and chinked with each shuffling step.  The entrance corridor was painfully long; but outside the magnificent stuccoed gate was none other than Willix, with a hover-speeder and a face creased with good emotions.

“I thought you might be glad of a ride back to the ship.”

“Ooh, oo, most glad, most exceedingly glad,” Tondo panted.  His legs felt like meltwater.  Willix had to help him up, like an old grandfather with crinky joints.  Help him down, too, when they reached the spaceport.  But he managed to wobble up the gangway on his own feet, to collapse with a feeble hoot of relief into one of the passenger seats.

“I hurt all over, I hurt all over, ooo it’s all so heavy!”

He slumped back, still in shock at his success.  Willix slipped forward and he heard the engines fire up, the soft human voice speaking to ground control, giving take-off codes.  And they lifted off, away from the rainy slime-muddied festering glory-hole of Nal Hutta.  He’d made it, all the way there and back, and he was practically clad in treasure.

A little while after the faint jolt of passing into hyperspace, Willix came back into the main hold.

“Our plan worked, then?”  He was grinning, that wide beam Tondo knew now came from an unforced happiness.

“It did, it did, I am a walking money bag my good sir!  How can I ever thank you?”

“It’s I who should thank you.  You gave me a perfect reason to visit Hutt space unsuspected.  And my mission here has gone well.”

“Oh no, please –“ he was unfastening one leaden boot as he spoke, loosening it carefully.  He could feel the contents slithering and clattering about as he extracted his foot.  He tipped the boot up and poured out jewels onto the grey durasteel.  Began to undo the jacket. “Here, look –“ an armful of credit chips fell to the deck. “I have all this thanks to you.” Thump, chink, a dozen fat coin-bags; rattle-rattle, more chips. “Look, even blue chips, even platinum ones.  Take one of them, please, won’t you?  Without your clever idea I would have at best half a dozen credit chips, a bag of coin, maybe a few rubies for make-weights.  Not a fortune like this!  In all my life, I’ve never had the opportunity to be generous.  Isn’t it comical that it’s the generosity of a _Hutt_ that has done this?  As you said to me beforehand, I just had to make him laugh.  Oh, please, take a credit chip, take a gem as well, take several.  Help yourself!”

Willix hung back for a moment.  His face had gone all blank again, as though he wasn’t easy letting himself show feeling.  Finally he nodded. “Nothing for myself,” he said. “But the credits – thank you.   I know people who can put that money to good use.”

“And a gem.  One gem at least.  Just a little one maybe? – for your – children?  Spouse?” Tondo pulled off his other boot with a groan of relief.  The pile of cut stones grew.

Willix was looking down.  His deck was sparkling with treasure.  Did it make him uncomfortable?  It struck Tondo suddenly how odd it was, to have trusted him instantly, to be trusting him now, showing him all this.  A queen’s ransom.  Yet he did trust Willix.  There was something profoundly bright about the young human.  For all his weary self-control he felt wholesome; he rang true like a well-baked loaf. 

“Is that kyber?”

He was pointing.  Tondo rummaged among the jewels.  Now he wasn’t burdened by their weight to the point of feeling nothing else, the fact of possessing them made him feel slightly delirious.  _Look at all this wealth, it’s unimaginable_ – “This one?  Here, take it, please take it with my thanks!”

“It’s very rare.  You should probably give me something commonplace like a ruby.”

“Master Willix.” Tondo drew himself up, barefoot and in his shirtsleeves. “I have more than I have ever dreamed of, thanks to your help.”

“And your courage, and the strength of your back.”

“Well, yes, that too, but please, let me show my gratitude?  I want you to have this.  Take it and most welcome!” He ran his hands through the cascading gems and credit chips. “Look at all this stuff!  Please allow me to be generous.  I’ve never had enough before, now I have too much.  Please take the crystal.”

“Not for myself,” Willix repeated. “But a friend of mine is – looking for one of these.  I’ll take it for him.  And my thanks.  You have no idea how much good this gift of yours may do.”

He took up the stone from the deck.  A tiny flicker of light stirred within it; brightened into warmth and slowly faded again. “Ah!” he said softly “what was that?”

“Ooh, I don’t know!  Isn’t it pretty though?  I can see why your friend wants one.  Won’t you take anything at all for yourself?  Not even a – a little pearl maybe?  Like this?”

Willix gave his smile that went right into the corners of his eyes, and closed his hand around the kyber crystal. “This is all I need.  Come, Master Tondo, let me get you your own clothes again, and we’ll be on our way home.”

**

Cassian handed the credit chip over immediately his debrief began.  The pleasure of seeing the General’s eyes widen in shock was more than enough payment. 

“I was anticipating that it would take several weeks to set-up a strong cover for a visit to Hutt space but on Lothal I happened to meet a passenger who needed to get there and back urgently.  It simply fell into my hands, I felt it would have been a waste of resources not to take the opportunity that had presented itself.  The visit was a success for both of us and he gave me this by way of payment.”

A platinum chip; ten thousand credits. “This, for a few days’ transport?” Draven was still shutting his face down again after that momentary gape.  “I’m guessing I don’t want to know what this passenger of yours did for a living…”

“He was a baker.” Cassian thought of the elated Rodian; his breathless giggle of delight, his family running to him in joy when he came home in one piece.  Their awed astonishment at the treasure he’d brought them, all their wide eyes popping with laughter. “It made him happy to be generous.  I couldn’t in good conscience turn it down.”

“Very good.  Carry on.” General Draven raised one eyebrow, but he picked up the shiny chip and smiled dryly at it. “Generous, indeed.  So, you were able to meet your contact within the Tiure family?”

“I was.” 

Cassian reported the details briskly.  The links he’d been sent to make and the further ones he’d established thanks to his cover as a civilian pilot; the information he’d noted, disaffection between the generations, greedy relatives, junior Tuire cousins with an eye to the future; the gossip he’d overheard from servants unaware of his fluent Huttese.  Numerous promising leads and connections, an inside man in Jabba’s circle, and a perfect “in” for Calrissian, when the time came to make their move.  A successful mission.

Released at last, he made his way wearily along the corridor to the turbo-lift.  It was tempting simply to go to his quarters.  ‘Fresher, clean clothes, a chance to talk to Jyn and Kay, catch up with their news.  He’d found messages from them both popping up on his comm as soon as he docked.  The love and the sarcasm of their words warmed him.  He’d be with them soon.  But first, he had a delivery to make.  He commed a private number, waiting for the elevator to arrive.

The voice answering was tired, but concealing it.  He knew that inflection too well. “Organa.”

“Princess.”

“Oh! – Cassian, I didn’t know you were –“ she broke off. “What can I do for you?”

It was that quick rephrasing that hurt, the way she pulled instantly away, backing off from an innocent flash of surprise into her usual detached and selfless professionalism.  It ached inside him.  Friendliness of times long past, showing for a moment and then put back out of reach once more.  His reach, and hers.

“May I have a few minutes of your time, Princess?  Sometime today or tomorrow, maybe?”

“Yes, of course, Captain.” Such a firm, senatorial tone, so brisk, so reasonable; but she said “Would now be good for you?” and he smiled despite himself, hoping he was bringing her good news. “I’m on my way to a meeting but it doesn’t start till seven bells.  Meet me at the main Briefing Room?”

“I’ll be there presently.”

He stepped into the elevator and keyed deck three.

Leia was in the white fatigues she so often wore.  Mourning colours, for a grief perpetual, and her status as the embodiment of all that both feels and fights for that loss.  Her dark hair bound in one of the plainest styles she used, and no make-up save a firm red on her lips.  It was late, by ship-time, almost the night watch.  But it wasn’t him preventing her from getting an early night.

There were three datapads and a stack of flimsi-paper on the communal table in the briefing room, and a stylus, set down beside a fourth pad scribbled with notes.  Yes, there was no chance that Leia Organa would ever have something so self-indulgent as an early night, when she could attend a meeting, and spend her time beforehand in research or planning of some kind.

The blueish light from the gangway threw the shadows round her eyes into sharp relief.

“Captain.”

“Princess.  Thank you for sparing the time for me.” And it was another tiny ache, to see the minute flicker of expression in her eyes as she noted his formality, even as she was so entirely formal herself. “You’ll receive my report as soon as it’s completed, but I wanted to tell you something in person.  I’ve succeeded in establishing a way in with the Tiure family, into the heart of the Hutt Cartel.  I was able to obtain Jabba the Hutt’s schedule for the next half year; when he’ll be on Nal Hutta, on Nar Shaddaa, on Tattooine, anywhere he spends time.”

“That’s wonderful.  Thank you.  This will make our planning so much simpler.” The tired brown eyes that never let go of their fire smiled up at him gratefully.

 _I’m doomed,_ he thought; _my life is tied to two short angry women, and I’m glad of it.  Honoured to fight for the one, and beside the other._

“There’s one more thing.  I know Commander Skywalker was talking about kyber crystals – about needing a piece of kyber to build a new lightsaber?”

Jyn had offered her necklace, half-proud and half on the verge of tears.  But apparently the shard was too small.

Unlike Tondo’s crystal.  He took it out of his pocket. “I wondered if he might be able to use this?”

Leia’s mouth opened wordlessly for a moment, and closed again.  Her eyes widened, and their clear darkness was warmed by the momentary glow from the heart of the stone.

“Why does that happen?” she asked. “It shining like that?” Her voice had gone soft with wonder. “Luke never mentioned it.”

“I don’t know.  Do you think it would be big enough for him?”

“Well,” her voice turning brisk again “It’s certainly worth showing him when he gets back.  He’s gone to Ilum to look for one.  Apparently if you meditate in the caves, a crystal may decide to _give itself to you_.” A quick, deprecating smile. “Yeah, I don’t understand it either, but if it works, who am I to joke…  Where did you get this one?  Cassian, if it – gave itself to you – maybe you’re -?”

 “No, no.” Stars, no, the last thing he was likely to become was Force-sensitive, after the life he had led and the things he’d done. “It was payment from someone I gave a ride to.”

Leia raised an eyebrow.  He suspected everyone was going to, hearing the story.

“A Rodian master-baker,” he added, and was rewarded with another smile, one with genuine amusement in it for a second.

“Kind of him.”

“He was kind.” The chocolate cookies; the eager hand holding out a platinum chip, ten thousand credits-worth offered so gladly.  The happiness he’d helped to cause, with that idea dimly remembered from a folk tale. “I’m glad I was able to help him.  Please, princess, won’t you take it?” He was still holding the stone, seeing how she hesitated.  Princess Leia never hesitated; it made him hesitant, seeing her like this.  He couldn’t place her expression; her usual forthright look quietened, as though the sight of the crystal was rousing something unknown in her. “I chose it for you.  For you to give Commander Skywalker, I mean.”

Which totally did not explain why he’d asked for her, offered it to her, instead of directly to the young Jedi.  Why _was_ he offering it to her?  Long acquaintance, long years of respect and admiration, and perhaps (he must, _must_ always be honest with himself, since the beginning of this new life where honesty was even possible) perhaps a certain long-ago crush.  From the days when he was just a skinny stateless adolescent, and the beauty and kindness and snapping wit of a princess had charmed a heart he’d thought frozen dead.

She raised her hand at last, and took the stone.

It warmed at her touch, and flared with light.  Brighter by far than the flickering glow it had given him.

“Oh!” said Leia.  Her eyes widened again as the gleam of light deepened and shimmered, took on rainbow hints of blue, green, lilac; and did not fade. “Oh, it’s beautiful.”

For a moment she looked alight; startled into joy by something so utterly unexpected.  Since Cloud City she’d been so driven.  She’d looked exhausted, almost hopeless.  But Leia would never be without hope.  She had built, not just the rebellion, but her whole life on that bedrock.  Hope even in the face of the greatest despair, the very cruellest loss. 

But hoping hurts.  He knew that all too intimately; it is a sword whose weight can break the arm that wields it.

The glowing crystal illuminated Leia, tired, shadowed with grief, but unflinching and unbowed, holding on to hope like another lightsaber.

“Why does it do that?” she asked again.  Wonderment still colouring her voice for a last breath of time. “It’s extraordinary…  So, anyway, I’ll pass it to Luke as soon as he gets back.  Even if he’s found a piece of his own – if one’s _given itself_ to him –“ a glimmer of good humour, precious and rare as kyber itself –“I’m sure he can find a use for this one too.”

“Or maybe you can?”

She waved the idea away. “I don’t need anything beautiful, half so much as I need to get things done.  If he can’t use it then I’ll keep it for someone who needs it.  Maybe one day there’ll be another young Jedi trying to find their way in the galaxy; maybe they won’t be able to go to Ilum and meditate their way into self-discovery.  I’ll keep this for that day, hmm?  And – Cassian –“

“Yes, princess?”

“Thank you.”

“Princess, thank _you_.”

The door at the far end of the gangway swished open.  She quickly slipped the gleaming stone into the breast pocket of her jacket.

“Well, goodnight then, Captain,” said Princess Leia.

Calrissian, Draven, Admiral Ackbar.  Time for him to be going.  Leaving the rebellion’s truest leader to her work, once again.  Leaving her to build a plan, take a chance, find new hope to follow the old.  With a faint smile on her lips, and a light for the future tucked away, hidden safely over her heart.

 

**Author's Note:**

> OKay, so the folk tale in question was borrowed; either that or Cassian has read Herodotus!


End file.
